Saturday, April 30, 2011

The quiet life.

Grasses bury the river bank,Rain darkens the village;The temple is lost in tall bambooI can't find the gate.They're gathering wood and brewing herbsI'm sorry a monk is sick;They've swept the ground and burned incenseIt cleans my spirit.Farm work not finished, though we're into Little Snow;Lamps lit before the Buddha,Signal of duskLately I've developed a taste for the quiet life.I think how we could talk togetherThrough the night.- Su Tung-p'o (1072)

Friday, April 29, 2011

It is comforting to think the absurdity and treachery of modern times will not remain the reality once we learn to transcend illusory limitations and include the diversity of difference.

A cold evening in my empty room;Time flows by like the incense smoke arising.Outside my door,A thousand stalks of bamboo,Above my bed, how many books?The moon has come to whitenHalf my window,The only sound in any directionIs the singing of insects.In this there is boundless feeling,But as I encounter it,There are no words. - Ryokan

Thursday, April 28, 2011

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Questioning God.

Maybe that response is to the question "Is there a God?"

If one can release the mindThat desires merit and fame,Wealth and distinction,He will be able to avoid the ordinary.If one can release the mindThat desires the Way and its virtue,Humanity and righteousness,He will, for the first time,Be able to join the sages.- Hung Ying-ming